


Dog Sweater

by Ruby Prism (rubyprism)



Category: Loveless
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyprism/pseuds/Ruby%20Prism





	Dog Sweater

Soubi angled the car into the slanted parking space. "You want to park here," he repeated, making sure he had his directive right. Seimei had changed his mind three times in the past few minutes, and Soubi knew better than to risk getting it wrong.

"Yes."

"It's nearly freezing out," Soubi reminded, his voice flat, as if he could hide his impertinence in its tonelessness, like a public announcement of no import to Seimei's choice. He didn't dare say so, but he worried for Seimei's comfort. Although Soubi had brought his thick winter coat to protect against the year's first serious chill, Seimei _hadn't_. That had inspired Seimei's monologue debate earlier concerning whether he should park closer to the destination after all.

"I'm going to use this car again tomorrow," said Seimei. "I won't compromise it now."

Soubi knew when to stop talking.

He turned off the ignition and shoved the keys into his pocket. The stinging chill hit him as soon as he climbed out; sneaking a glance at Seimei, he saw that the sacrifice was indeed suffering from the cold. His tail was wrapped close against his body, not clamped tightly against his legs as it usually was, but curled around front for warmth, as if it were trying to hide under his sweater.

They walked down the trail, towards the heart of the park, for a few minutes before Soubi gathered the courage to ask, "Do you want to borrow my coat?"

Immediately he knew it had been the wrong thing to offer. Seimei looked thoroughly disgusted. "That filthy coat? Covered in cigarette ash?"

It _was_ clean, but Soubi knew he should not provoke Seimei further by disagreeing with his judgment. He nodded and kept his head down. That allowed him to glimpse the edges of his name against his neck, fuzzy in his peripheral vision. It gave him a little comfort.

"I would never wear your clothing," continued Seimei. "It makes my skin crawl. It smells like you. I don't care how cold it gets, I won't touch a thing you've worn."

Soubi nodded. Should he have nodded? Or should he not respond? Seimei's mood was dropping rapidly with his body temperature. Would he be sharper or more sluggish in this cold?

"Although," purred Seimei, "you have a point. Why should I be cold when you are warm? Take that coat off and carry it."

Soubi unbuttoned his coat and shrugged it off. The wind was fierce against his exposed throat, penetrated his thin rayon sweater and cotton shirt, but he was no worse off than Seimei, he knew. He folded the coat carefully so the keys would not fall out of his pocket, and carried it bundled in his arms.

He knew from the silence that Seimei's eyes were still upon him, with less warmth than the night air. "That's not enough," he pronounced. "You still look too warm."

Although he really wasn't looking forward to it, Soubi peeled off his sweater. Seimei was still watching him with that wanting that would never be sated, not for any positive gain and certainly not for the kind of warmth that Soubi really craved. It didn't matter, Soubi thought; he would never be warm anyway. He unbuttoned the thin collared shirt and stripped it off, exposing his bare chest to the cold.

He did not dare look at his master for some kind of signal, for he knew it would never be approval.

"You're so disgusting," said Seimei. "Covered in scars like that. How can you stand to look at yourself?"

Instinctively Soubi looked down at himself again-- at his name, at the thread of promise that Seimei had given him, the one part of his body that still felt good despite the sharpness of the biting air against its sensitised, unhealing skin. Seimei's name. His name.

"How dare you!" snarled Seimei. "You impertinent bastard!"

Before Soubi could parse what Seimei was _talking_ about, he was struck hard. He touched his throbbing face and his hand came away covered in blood.

"I don't..." he gasped, drawing in a stinging sharp breath. "I don't think my scars are disgusting. I think they're beautiful. Especially the ones you carved." He closed his eyes this time when he bowed his head.

"That's why you're disgusting," replied Seimei. "Now take off the rest."

Taking a deep breath, Soubi stripped, thankful that the cold kept him from embarrassing himself even worse.

"Your shoes, too," Seimei instructed. Soubi was grateful that the concrete sidewalk was smooth, not too sharp with embedded stones.

"Throw those clothes away."

Soubi looked around: parking lot and sidewalk leading into a forested park, without a trash can in sight. "Where shall I throw them?"

"You're useless. Pry up that rain gutter."

Soubi fished Kio's keys out from his coat pocket-- the one thing he did not think Seimei would want to throw away, thank goodness-- and crouched down by the metal grate. He pulled up one edge-- lighter than it looked, a metre drop to the dirty rainwater below. "In here?"

"Drop them," commanded Seimei.

They went.

Soubi allowed himself to shiver with cold as they walked, because he knew it would please Seimei to see him suffering.

When they reached the visitors' centre, Seimei slowed, alert to the light on within the small building. "Soubi, you're unfit for company the way you are. I don't want his last glimpse of me to be distracted by your filthy scarred naked body."

"Shall I wait outside?"

"Yes, do that," said Seimei.

As he passed Soubi, he muttered, "Good dog."


End file.
